


burned at both ends

by diminishedmercury



Series: SNBM & RRYN AU [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse Mention, Pre-Relationship, Setting Boundaries, and merc is still Learning about pyrrha in return, beginnings of friendship, pyrrha is still Learning about merc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20967980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diminishedmercury/pseuds/diminishedmercury
Summary: “What’s got ya in a twist?” She bumps her thigh against his.“Mercury…” He knows that tone and he hates it. It’s pity. It’s sympathy. It’s things he doesn’t want nor need. He rolls his eyes as he pulls himself off her and sits with legs bent and his palms against the mat.“Don’t give me that bullshit, Pyrrha. Not from you,” He knows that she knows now. She has to. He reaches down to pull the ankle of his sweatpants up, revealing the dull metal below.





	burned at both ends

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to VenomSquidward bc bitch I see u and I love u, thank u so much for ur support boo ashjshfj
> 
> This is just a quick look into the beginnings of Pyrrha and Mercury's relationship- there's a certain level of emotion there that Mercury doesn't really know how to process that we'll eventually get to look at more as I get up more stories for this AU.

It’s a quiet day at Beacon that anyone on his team figures out Mercury’s “secret.” And it’s not like he actually hid it- he doesn’t particularly care about who knows about his legs and who doesn’t, he just has a habit of not talking about himself. It’s instinctual. It’s survival. He’s an assassin (even if he never really wanted to be a murderer) and that meant that he plays all of his cards close to his chest. He gets as much information out of other people for the smallest amount he has to offer up. He takes more than he gives in a sense.

It’s after a long training session with Pyrrha that she finds out. She’s skilled and talented, but Mercury thinks he can make her an even more impressive fighter if he can only make her forget about fighting with honor. Honor has no place on the battlefield in his eyes. You die or you win, simple as that, and if using dirty tactics gets you a win then using dirty tactics is the way to go. Still, he doesn’t comment much throughout their sparring, noting places she could have gone for an underhanded kick or punch, and uses her hesitance to his advantage.

He has her on the floor pinned under his legs in one fluid motion, kicking her legs out from beneath her, and when she wiggles to make an escape she suddenly freezes. He blinks down at her with a silent question on his face. “What’s got ya in a twist?” She bumps her thigh against his.

“Mercury…” He knows that tone and he hates it. It’s pity. It’s sympathy. It’s things he doesn’t want nor need. He rolls his eyes as he pulls himself off her and sits with legs bent and his palms against the mat.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Pyrrha. Not from you,” He knows that she knows now. She has to. He reaches down to pull the ankle of his sweatpants up, revealing the dull metal below. He can’t really feel when she places a hand on his calf and runs it up his leg. She stops when she has a hand over his clothed thigh with a raised brow.

“This isn’t metal, is it?” He shakes his head. He resists the urge in his leg to wildly kick out. His thighs are hypersensitive to touch- he can’t stand to be touched there, but he grits his teeth against the stimulus for her. He doesn’t have to say anything for her to remove her hand. “I thought it was just your greaves.”

He shrugs. “Nope.” He doesn’t really have anything to say about it. There’s nothing _to _say really. “… You just got your ass handed to you by a cripple.” She glares at him and he wishes that he knew what color they were. Weiss had said they were green, but he wonders what shade of green.

“Stop it, Mercury! I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that.” He snorts and can’t hold back his laughter when she looks even angrier. He can’t help it- she’s the most innocent, naïve person he thinks he’s ever met and he doesn’t know if it’s cute or sad. She looks frustrated for a moment and he really should try to work on his behavior more often. He knows he’s annoying and irritating, he just doesn’t care that much. Emotion is tinged in grey for him. He only has memories of emotions to work off of. “When did it happen? If- If you don’t mind me asking.”

He doesn’t. “When I was thirteen. Weiss was eleven.” She looks sad, but he can tell that she isn’t sad for him. Maybe she just feels too much and he feels too little. “Pops wasn’t a good man, Pyrrha. Took my semblance the same day.” He says as if it’s not important. And it’s not (in his eyes at least). She looks horrified by the revelation and he doesn’t have a second to react before she’s thrown her arms around him in a hug. He tenses up, nearly hitting her in his fright, but he relaxes into the touch after a moment. “Don’t-“ He breathes deeply to steady himself. “Don’t touch me without _warning_.” He knows she can’t possibly know what he’s gone through. He knows she can’t possibly know all the hurt and pain Marcus put him through. He knows, he knows, he knows. But it doesn’t stop his natural inclination towards violent defense.

“I’m sorry I just- Mercury, you didn’t deserve that. Surely you must know that?” She lets go of him without any fuss, staring at him with a sad look in her eyes. He frowns, because he doesn’t know how to explain that he _did _deserve it and that he’s not even angry about what his father had done to him. Maybe he would be if he could still feel things like he used to, but it’s all so dull and grey that he doesn’t really care. He shrugs and doesn’t really give her an answer to a question she’s not really asking. “I’m being serious!” Her tone is angry and he’s not sure what that anger is directed towards.

“And what good would that do me, Pyrrha? It won’t bring back my legs, it won’t bring back my semblance, and it sure as hell won’t bring back my ability to see color,” He hisses out, growing frustrated with her naivety. She looks like she’s just been slapped when he spits it out.

“You… can’t see color?” He goes quiet. He hadn’t really meant to let that part slip. Only Weiss was supposed to know about that and here he is, spilling out things he shouldn’t be to Pyrrha all because she’s gotten under his skin.

“No,” He says with a deep exhale. “But I remember it.”

“Okay,” She says. He doesn’t expect her to have a response anyways. “Can I kiss you?” His brain goes blank for a moment.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you? Your cheek.” Oh. He nods and she does and he finds that his skin doesn’t crawl from her touch with the forewarning. It’s… pleasant in a way he’s never derived from touch. It’s almost comforting and he realizes that’s probably what she meant it to be. He feels muscles relax that he hadn’t even known were tense. She has a playful smile on her lips and he has a question mark on his face. “Your cheeks are pink now!”

He scoffs, “I am _not _blushing.”

“Nope. But I have lipstick on,” She giggles and- oh. Wow. Now he has to walk back to their dorm with lipstick on his cheek. How thoughtful of her.

“Thanks, I guess,” He rolls his eyes, but he’s surprised to feel the corners of his lips twitch upwards. He doesn’t know what any of this really means. He doesn’t want to think about it too hard either. He feels a little bit like he’s been burned at both ends, but he finds that he doesn’t mind if he can continue to see her smile (and that, in itself, scares him). “… Actually, thanks.”

She smiles, bright and wide, and glances down at his hand before gently grabbing it. He finds that he still likes her touch with the warning. “You’re very welcome. Now let’s go find Weiss and Blake! We can have some post-deep secrets lunch?” He snorts at that, but nods, clutching her hand in his own, and follows her back towards their dorm. He thinks he likes her.

**Author's Note:**

> For context about Mercury's colorblindness: my headcanon is that Mercury's semblance was the ability to see emotion in color. He could see the color of someone's emotion as if it painted them in a certain color- red for anger, pink for love, etc. This made him a very empathetic child and Marcus, wanting to train him as an assassin, chose to take it away from him because it made him weak in his eyes. After losing his semblance, Mercury's eyes lost their color and the ability to see color- they're grey now, but used to be purple. This is also why he has a hard time feeling and identifying his own emotions.


End file.
